


Lawbreakers

by its_mike_kapufty



Series: Rhink Ficlets [9]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Lost a Bet, M/M, Movie Night, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Hand Jobs, Sexual Tension, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty
Summary: Itshouldput a damper on Rhett's offer, that the movie theater is packed.It doesn't.





	Lawbreakers

The heavy odors of industrial cleaner and buttered popcorn smothered the air as Rhett strode through the halls of the theater. Abandoned drinks and snacks piled up outside the many doors, along with a clearly stressed, pock-faced attendant doing his best to sweep up the mess. Without stopping, Rhett bent down and grabbed a cup, dropping it into a trash bin and earning a surprised _thanks_ from the frazzled employee.

“Rhett! Wait up, man!”

Obediently he turned. Link bobbed along towards him on the tacky velvet carpet, a bottle of water in one hand and box of Swedish Fish in the other. Once beside his friend, he meticulously situated the candies into the pocket of his olive green jacket and offered the water bottle to Rhett.

“Want some?”

“We _just_ had dinner,” Rhett smirked. “I’m good.”

“Thought I’d offer before I put my mouth on it.” Link shrugged and bounced the bottle on his leg, peering around Rhett down the hall.

“...but then you would’ve had to drink after me. You realize that, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right,” Link chuckled, nudging his glasses up. “I can go buy you your own drink, if you want?”

Rhett pulled a face. “The movie’s probably already started. We should really hurry to find seats.”

“I know we’re in LA, but c’mon. You really think a re-release of ‘ _Magic Mike’_ with uncut footage is gonna be sold out?” Link snorted, keeping pace with Rhett as they located their showing.

As a matter of fact, it was.

They stood, dumbfounded, staring into the sea of blue-lit faces. Everyone was keenly tuned to the roar of the trailers blasting on the screen. Flashes from explosions hit the friends’ backs as they climbed the stairs, scrutinizing each row for any open seats. They weren’t rewarded for their efforts until they had reached the back wall, where Link groaned.

Without missing a beat, Rhett whipped out his phone and shot off a text to to him.

_at least here i won’t be blocking anyone’s view._

Link grimaced at his own phone, then gave a curt, relenting nod.

After many bumped knees and much awkward squeezing, they had managed to settle into their spots. Situation aside, this theater had large, cushy chairs that were tall enough for Rhett to relax into, if he slouched down just a bit. Silver linings.

It wasn’t a conscious decision for Rhett to angle his body away from the person on his left--just second nature at this point. A way to say _this is my space, I’m not interacting with anyone but this guy_ to any chatty strangers. Besides--if they happened to be a Mythical Beast, it would be a hell of a story to tell on forums. He tugged his windbreaker tight, folding his arms into the taut fabric.

When he crossed his legs and his sneakers knocked against Link’s, neither batted an eye.

He watched, listless, as a trailer promoting a raunchy animated movie played, earning far more laughs from the audience than it deserved. Go figure, for this kind of film. Marketing had done their job well.

He only noticed that Link had been fiddling inside of his jacket for a time when the other looked up with an apologetic grin, and on cue, Rhett’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he followed Link’s lead and shielded the other moviegoers from its light.

_If nothing else, this will teach us not to make bets with the crew again._

Rhett grinned and began typing.

_to be honest, i’m glad we lost. didn’t really want to pay for dozens of tickets to the lego sequel._

After a beat of thought, he added:

_though i’m a little miffed at how quickly emily mentioned that THIS was a thing._

Link’s gently illuminated face beamed conspiratorially down into his jacket, and Rhett couldn’t help but smile fondly.

When the movie started, there was a lot of unnecessary whooping and hollering even on the calm shots of Channing Tatum’s character, and it didn’t take long for Rhett to piece together that these were, ah, _enthusiasts_ of the film.

He’d seen it once before--something he’d admitted to Link after Stevie had begged him to go with her for laughs--and it was genuinely a good story. He didn’t mind watching it again. The real entertainment--and his plan--was watching Link’s expressions as _he_ witnessed it for the first time. He always got this endearing little upside-down smirk whenever he tried to act uncomfortable yet secretly liked something, and Rhett knew this was _just_ the sweet spot to bring out that quirk: a comedy featuring half-naked men.

He angled his head to ensure he could see not only the screen, but Link’s face, without moving.

It didn’t take long for the first reaction--Link swallowing, to be exact--to Matthew McConaughey shirtless on stage, palming his crotch in a tight pair of pants.

_“The law says that you cannot touch… but I think I see a lotta lawbreakers up in this house.”_

The combination of Link’s gulp and the dialogue made Rhett’s stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way.

The water bottle was still unopened between them. With Link evidently distracted, Rhett pulled out his phone.

_you thirsty?_

Link nearly jumped out of his seat at the vibration and shot a look at Rhett, who was watching him, bored. He checked his phone.

_What? No._

_okay._

Rhett hesitated before continuing, chasing the silly joke that Link had no way of being in on.

_who’s hotter: mike or dallas?_

When Link drew his head back in surprise at the question, Rhett tried to give him a shit-eating grin… but Link was too busy replying to notice.

_Dallas. Duh._

Rhett balked.

_‘duh??’_

_Tatum looks like a potato. Too much muscle._

When Rhett peered at Link from his windbreaker, the brunette gave a noncommittal shrug.

_dallas’s still real buff though._

_Not too buff._

_okay, weirdo._ Rhett shook his head and nuzzled into the seat, trying to focus on the movie instead of the past few minutes.

Halfway through the run-time was when Link decided to eat the Swedish Fish he’d bought. The crinkle of the packaging didn’t seem to bother anyone, but it did serve to douse the bizarre ember of curiosity that Link’s reactions had stoked in Rhett’s throat. Shameful as it was, there was no denying that he’d spent most of the movie thus far hyper-focused on his best friend instead of the plot, pinpointing the fascinating reactions the male strippers elicited from him.

So far he’d swallowed, pressed his lips together, licked his upper one, _bit his lower one--_ but still, as entertainingly telling as these things were, Rhett couldn’t stand watching Link chew.

Only, Link didn’t eat the candy. The first one he selected, he pressed to his lips, mindless. An exercise in tactile pleasure that someone only partook in when they thought no one was looking. Rhett watched, mesmerized, as Link’s lips caressed and pouted against the red confection, the thing rocking gently between the corners of his mouth.

Another glance at the screen.

Shirtless Dallas, dancing. Rolling his hips again.

The way Link then shifted nearly knocked the wind out of Rhett; the smaller one pressed his knees together tightly, pushed a hand into his lap, hunched forward just so. Candy still at his mouth. Actions invisibly innocent to anyone else. Ones Rhett knew from watching certain videos in college and from time spent together in the woods as kids, having found a magazine of questionable integrity.

Rhett’s head swam and bubbled with questions he only felt secure enough to address in that moment. Questions not just for Link, but for himself as well.

_Why am I so tantalized by him when he’s like this?_

The darkness of the theater emboldened him. The normal world wasn’t like this--rows of inattentive people, dim lights, and illusion of privacy with a Link who was clearly struggling to keep himself together right there next to Rhett. Close enough to touch. This sort of spell was incredibly rare.

An alien rush of excitement and fear pulsed through his fingers as he retrieved his phone yet again, letting autopilot take over, the surety and steadiness of his actions belying his nerves. If this failed, he could always play it off as a joke. But he knew Link. 35 years’ worth, _knew_ Link. The guy was an open book for his eyes only. And for the first time, Rhett was going to act upon what he’d read.

_i can help you with that._

The notification’s vibration prompted Link to blink and finally pop the candy into his mouth, broken of his trance. It took him a bit to read the message a few times over, and even then, he buried the little screen against his chest and squinted at Rhett in the dim, perplexed.

 _the problem in your pants._ An icy sliver of adrenaline shot up Rhett’s spine when he hit _send._

When Link’s gaze fell back to the texts, his eyes went round and he shut the phone off instantly with a click. He sat, rigid, as Rhett tried to read his face. It was harder without his cell’s light.

For an achingly long time Link remained motionless, eyes on the back of the seat in front of him, wide yet unfocused. The movie flashed bright, and Rhett thought he caught color blossoming through Link’s ears. It was that image that forced him to acknowledge his own arousal with a hitching inhale. How long had he been hard?

Cautiously, fed by protectiveness and bestial desire to hunt this opportunity to its natural end, Rhett straightened up and casually draped his right arm over the armrest, dropping it next to Link’s thigh as nonchalantly as possible.

_Just watching a movie. No one notices._

Link’s entire body tensed, his thighs perking to attention as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

This was it, then. The precipice to which Rhett had dragged their friendship. It was up to Link to make the next move for the both of them--to either retreat and pretend this had never happened, or take the plunge and break a barrier that had been standing for decades. One they’d successfully circumvented time and again at sleepovers and late nights in their dorm and drunken one-on-ones at industry parties.

Rhett closed his eyes, breath held. Waiting.

He got his answer when Link’s arm settled between them, shielding Rhett’s telling position from view.

The commitment drew a thrilled shiver from the blonde. He swiveled his hand to squeeze Link’s thigh gently, earning another flex from him. The soft cotton of his baggy pants, the _warmth_ coming off of them only goaded Rhett further, feeding the fire in his stomach and filling his mind with filth that only came with permission.

No zipper meant easier access, and he fought off light-headedness as he withdrew his elbow toward the seat, thumbing against the hem of Link’s shirt to search for skin. When he found it--smooth and warm and inviting--Link sat at attention, eyes glued to the movie.

Pressing a finger against Link’s hip and sliding down past his waistbands was alarmingly natural, and Rhett only paused to drink in the sensation, wishing it was his palm against the other and not his knuckles--as much could’ve been said for most of their adult relationship.

 _Until now,_ Rhett reminded himself, pushing his hand forward, following the curve of Link’s thigh. The soft hairs of his leg ran under the pads of Rhett’s fingertips as he edged closer to his goal. When they found and flirted with the longer, feathery hair where Link’s thighs met--petting lovingly--he waited.

 _Last chance,_ he thought, heart pounding. Mouth dry.

Link moved. He brought a hand up to nudge his glasses, and when he dropped it, his arms folded over his stomach, causing his jacket to bunch up in a makeshift curtain over his lap.

_Fuck._

Eagerly as he could without raising suspicion, Rhett took a hold of Link, immediately committing to memory the warmth and heft of his hardness, how silky his skin was, how ridiculously turned on he was by these male strippers. It almost made Rhett smile--almost--until he drew his hand up and felt how much precum had already soaked into his underwear.

Rhett exhaled, deep and shaky, neck burning. Link’s cock twitched against his palm.

Shoulder to shoulder, gaining confidence with each passing second of admission, he slanted his head to whisper in Link’s ear.

 _“You_ really _like Dallas.”_

Link’s eyes fluttered shut. Rhett felt the goosebumps that broke out over Link’s thigh well before the other rested against him, craning his neck to respond in kind.

_“Only ‘cause he reminds me of you.”_

With that--shoulders aflame and lids heavy--Rhett stroked him.

Long, slow movements drew Link up from his base and swirled around the head of his cock, breaking the bead of precum there--Rhett twisting his wrist the same way he wished he could work himself over.

Link’s chest stuttered, each puff of breath escaping his lips in tiny whimpers that found Rhett’s ear. When he sank his head down to look at the screen again, he left his temple pressed against Rhett’s shoulder, where the taller one could feel gratifying shivers rolling out from his work.

Powerless to give himself the attention he craved, Rhett crossed his legs tight, at least able to relish in the pressure the position provided.

Careful not to let the rhythmic sound of slicking reach those around them, Rhett made a point to wait until the movie was loud to really work up some speed. Fortuitously, since parties and clubs were a recurring setting, the lapses where Rhett had to slow to a torturous trickle were few and far between.

But when a scene in a quiet bedroom started, Rhett stopped completely, unwilling to risk it.

Link squirmed beside him. Rhett looked down to catch his eyes and warn silently, _don’t,_ but found instead the white-knuckled grip the smaller one had on bundles of fabric in his lap. The bead of sweat drifting from his hairline. The merciless bite holding his bottom lip in place, damming up a moan.

Barely moving his head, Link made eye contact that seared Rhett down to his bones, straight to his cock--a mess of a man, urgent and blush-beaten. Wearing his sex on his face openly for Rhett. Keening for him.

Rhett was considering pulling his hand away in an act of mercy when Link bucked up into his grip, fucking himself on the offering. The depravity of it made Rhett’s blood sing, made him dizzy and lust-drunk and feral with want. If they were alone he would’ve lost control, fallen to his knees and ripped Link’s pants down. Taken him hungry and deep into his mouth, lapping up the precum at his slit, milking even more out of the brunette with each dip of his head.

The _noises_ he could be hearing, if only they were alone.

Rhett’s stomach tightened at the inability to touch his own swollen cock, weeping for attention in his jeans. So when loud music resumed blasting from the overhead speakers, Rhett took out the frustration on Link, jerking him off at a cruel pace.

To his credit, Link seemed perfectly calm when he brought a hand up and pressed it tightly against his mouth. In one’s periphery, they would assume he was bored. From Rhett’s view, he was coming undone. Eyes screwed shut, eyebrows begging, the barely-there shivers as he rode the feeling of Rhett working him over, closer to release in a crowded room.

Rhett’s mouth fell open, panting weakly, watching, stroking faster and _faster._

Link leaned back, curling into Rhett and burying his face in Rhett’s shoulder, wrapping his hands pleadingly around Rhett’s bicep to _feel_ each stroke in his muscle, digging his teeth into Rhett’s arm to keep from crying out as thick, warm spurts of come ran over the hand on his cock, dripping from the roof of his boxers and spilling down Rhett’s knuckles.

 _“Rhett,”_ Link gasped, inaudible to anyone but him. As if his name were a command, Rhett slipped his free hand under Link’s jaw, pressing the smaller one’s head to his side just as he finished--untouched--into his jeans. Still working the last few drops out of Link, hoping the smaller one could hear his soft grunts of release as he rode out what Link _did_ to him without even trying.

It took a while for Rhett’s senses to return. First, the suddenly-obnoxious dialogue of the film. Second, the fact that no one seemed to be paying them any mind.

Between hard breaths, Rhett gave him one last affectionate caress before bringing his hand to rest on Link’s thigh, rubbing in reassurance. Link had gone catatonic and dreamy-eyed, head still propped against the taller one as if they were on a date.

The wet on their pants was unfortunate, but they both had jackets on, and jackets were apparently good at hiding things. They’d find a way to conceal their deed.

Gradually Rhett peeled his hand from Link’s pants--trying to wipe it clean along the way--and the other exhaled at the loss of contact. When Link frowned and sat up, Rhett slipped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him back in.

They had completely missed a huge chunk of story. The credits were going to roll soon.

Link gave a chuckling sigh and dragged his chin up to murmur, _“Did you really...?”_

Rhett smirked, gazing down into Link’s soft eyes. Wanting nothing more than to plant a kiss on his lips.

_“Shh. It’s rude to talk during a movie.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [rhinkythingz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhinkythingz/pseuds/rhinkythingz) and [analog08](https://archiveofourown.org/users/analog08/pseuds/analog08) for beta'ing!  
> I've never seen Magic Mike. 😅 Sorry if that shows!


End file.
